My Immortal Lover
by MayzyGreen
Summary: Another typical, boring day in the life of Sarah Williams.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth

My Immortal Lover

By Danika Lareyna

Chapter One

You Wouldn't Believe What I've Been Through

Sarah swore at the copy machine. She swore vilely and she swore crudely. She then kept right on swearing, her voice rising in volume until people began to peek over the tops of their cubicle walls to see what all of the screaming was about. From time to time, she would punctuate her words with a swift kick to the beastly machine (which she was certain was the reincarnation of Attila the Hun). Her hair had escaped from its simple but elegant bun and now flew wildly about her rapidly reddening face. The professional yet feminine business suit she wore was disheveled, the jacket crooked and her pantyhose twisted. She vaguely regretted that she had worn sensible flats today rather than high heels with which she could impale the evil, electronic entity through its foul heart (or whatever possessed devil-machines had). Her teeth were bared, her eyes flashed wickedly, and her coworkers slowly slunk back to their seats, pretending they had not seen anything and hoping not to be noticed.

When she had exhausted her vocabulary of curses, a feat which took approximately seven and a half times longer than anyone who knew her would have guessed, Sarah took three long, soothing breaths. She then walked sedately back to her desk, jotted down a letter of resignation, and left the office building forever. Watching her go, a slight skip to her step, all of her coworkers could only shake their heads sadly, agreeing that it was always the sweet, young beauties that lost it first. All of her coworkers, that is, except for Harvey Lorenson, who was rapidly taking notes, having never heard such creative ways of calling someone a fatherless, odorous farmyard animal which practiced questionable sexual acts before.

xXx

Having finally escaped from what she had labeled "The Job of Eternal Stench," Sarah decided that a bit of a celebration was in order. Her immediate impulse was to express her euphoria by setting fire to the building from which she had just emerged, possibly roasting a few marshmallows and singing campfire songs, but she restrained herself (barely). Instead, feeling immensely wicked and guilty, Sarah swung Joseph into the McDonald's drive-thru. Joseph, of course, was Sarah's 1988 Mercury Topaz. He was so named because, like most of her possessions, he was a piece of crap and, therefore, he was constantly stalling. Stalling. Get it? Joseph Stallin' (1). Sarah amused herself so.

The pimply teenager who took her order tried to give her a hard time, but Sarah was finally able to frighten him into handing over her treat- a large chocolate milkshake with hot fudge swirled in and M&Ms sprinkled on top (2). She figured that when you are bad you might as well go all the way. Chortling to herself, Sarah tucked the concoction between her knees and pulled away from the fast-food restaurant. Whose bright idea it was to design Joseph without cup-holders she did not know, but she had wonderful plans if she ever found out. Most of them involved long, hard objects used in ways for which they were never intended and which would most likely shock and appall their manufacturers.

As she maneuvered through the afternoon traffic, Sarah did some quick mental calculations. She figured that she had enough in savings to get by for at least three months, and that she could probably mooch off of her housemate for another two (the girl _definitely_ owed her). What she would do in that time was uncertain, but she knew that one thing was sure- she needed a vacation before she got mired in another dead-end job where she was overworked, underappreciated and not respected at all purely because she was young, pretty and/or female.

A vacation, yes, the word sung to her enticingly. She could not afford anything fancy, but perhaps she could get lost in the woods for a week. She had always been fond of camping, but her stepmother refused to have anything to do with the outdoors. There were too many bugs, germs and random crawly things for Karen William's taste. Sarah felt somewhat sorry for Toby, her younger half-brother, with his obsessive fear of all things dirty. It was just not natural in a nine year old boy.

A wide grin spread across the young woman's face as she pulled into her driveway. A week in the woods sounded ideal. She could fill the backseat of her car with all of the books she had been planning to read, eat nothing even remotely healthy and 'accidentally' forget her cell phone at home. Sarah found herself whistling happily to herself as she searched for her house key. She was certain that the usually somber dirge she was whistling would never forgive her for the bright, cheerful beat she had given it. Oh yes, things were definitely finally looking up for Sarah Williams.

Until she opened the door to her apartment and discovered that her housemate had the day off.

"Sarah!" Briann squealed, pushing her man of the hour away and scrambling for some semblance of clothing. Her beau seemed far less perturbed and merely gave Sarah a dirty look (and an eyeful) as he sauntered back to Briann's bedroom. Sarah had had three different roommates since she had moved out of her father's house and somehow always managed to end up with overly promiscuous girls who had an obsessive interest in both partying and Sarah's love life (or apparent lack thereof) (3).

Briann was great, no mistake, she and Sarah got along swimmingly. Sarah just wished that the girl would learn to keep bedroom activities confined to the bedroom. She had the unfortunate experience of walking in on the blonde when she was 'occupied' in the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, the backyard, the attic, that little crawlspace under the stairs, the car, and once she had heard distinctly suspicious noises coming from the roof. Sarah swore up and down that if she ever caught Briann in _her_ bedroom she would invite all of the girl's ex-lovers over for a lovely dinner party so they could meet and... share experiences.

As her housemate scurried around, retrieving lost articles of clothing, Sarah took the opportunity to hide her milkshake. If Briann laid eyes on it she would begin making comments about chocolate going straight to Sarah's butt and she simply was not in the mood for it now. Sarah was convinced that she was destined to be pleasantly plump in life but, thanks to the meddling of 'concerned friends', she was forced to be tall, thin and ethereal. Curse them.

"Sorry about that, Sarah!" Briann piped, tugging on a large, ugly shirt with something offensive to Sarah's relatively feminist ideals scrawled across the front. She could only assume that the crude bit of fashion belong to Briann's boy-toy, as she usually refused to wear anything that cost less than Sarah made in a week. The dark-haired woman merely rolled her eyes and moved to sit on the couch. She paused, considering the purpose to which the couch had recently been put, and decided to stand instead.

Putting her hands on her hips, Sarah tried to look chastising. "Briann, you know I've asked you to be more careful. At _least_ lock the door."

Briann tugged on a shiny, curled blond lock. Sarah could not help but wonder how she managed to keep her hair perfectly in place despite her earlier... vigor. Her makeup was unsmudged as well. It almost seemed to defy the laws of physics. Or at least the laws of cosmetics. "I said I was sorry," she pouted. "Anyway, I didn't think you'd be home. Shouldn't you be at work?"

Choking down a blush, Sarah grumbled, "Don't try to change the subject. It's not like this is the first time it has happened. Or the tenth. Or even twentieth!"

Briann grinned widely, sparkling teeth almost blindingly white. "Jealous?" she asked. "I could lend you Roger for a while. ...or was it Matthew? Paul... maybe? Eh, anyway, interested?" She winked bawdily.

Sarah was sure that the look of utter disgust on her face was answer enough, but just to be certain she spat, "No, thank you. Generous as your offer is I'm afraid Roger or Matthew or maybe Paul is just not my type."

"What _is_ your type?" Briann huffed. "I've _never_ seen you show interest in a man." Her eyes widened and her plump, pink lips formed a little 'o'. "Sarah," she whispered, leaning forward conspiratorially, "Do you... you know, play for the other team?"

The dark-haired young woman pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers, closing her eyes. "No," she replied, in a slow, even voice. "No, Briann. I am not a lesbian."

"Well," Briann said, tilting her head so that long, blond curls tumbled down over her crude t-shirt, "What kind of guys _do_ you like? I'm sure I can find you somebody. You know I have the connections, I just need to know what I'm looking for."

Sarah crossed her arms, making a show of considering her answer. At last she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Well for one thing, I like a man whose name I can remember." Her eyes took a far-off look as her mouth ran away with her, sarcasm forgotten. "A name I could never forget. A name that makes people tremble with its power. A name fit for a king..." Sarah cut off, blinking back into reality.

Briann snorted, "A king, huh? I hate to tell you this, Girlfriend, but it just isn't going to happen. You need to lower your standards- a _lot_." She turned and began to walk back towards her room, swaying her hips and tossing her head. As she pulled open her door she called over her shoulder, "I hate to tell you this, Sarah, but you're just not the type to attract a man like that. Maybe a nice librarian?"

The door shut firmly and Sarah stared at it for a moment, mouth slightly agape. With a snort, she snatched her milkshake from its hiding place and took a long draw. She only succeeded in giving herself a splitting cold-headache. Massaging her temples, Sarah stormed into her own bedroom, closing the door to drown out the insipid giggles that were floating from Briann's room. She set her shake on the dresser and began fumbling her way across the room to turn on her bedside light when a voice, smooth and elegant as the most expensive wine, spoke behind her.

"She is right, Sarah," the voice purred, "You _really_ ought to settle for a nice librarian."

With a content sigh, Sarah collapsed into the waiting arms of her lover.

xXx

AN-

(1) - Not my car. My brothers. MY car is Joseph's big brother, a Ford Tempo- also without cup holders.

(2) - No, I do not partake of these myself. I am allergic to chocolate and would probably DIE. However I worked at McDonald's for a time and they -were- ordered.

(3) - See just about any fic where Sarah has a roommate for examples.


	2. Chapter 2

My Immortal Lover

By Danika Lareyna

Chapter Two

If You Say Run, I'll Run With You

It was nearly eleven o'clock the following morning when Sarah skulked out of her bedroom, trying to look grouchy and unsatisfied. It was a challenge considering that her emotions were in reality floating about at the extreme opposite end of the spectrum. A fleeting vision of the night before flashed across her mind, causing Sarah to pause in her trip to the kitchen, catching her breath as hot shivers wracked her body. Fortunately, her carefully constructed facade of misery seemed to be pointless, it appeared Briann had already left.

Shaking herself and swallowing the giddy grin that had somehow managed to work its way onto her face, Sarah made it to the small kitchen. Briann had insisted that a kitchen was not a kitchen unless it was done in pastel yellow and white. Sarah had acquiesced but now could not understand why Briann cared, considering she never did any cooking anyway. Sarah was a rather good cook, a fact that she firmly kept a secret from her housemate. Briann had once asked Sarah to make lunch and, after a meal of burnt peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (1), they had come to the mutual conclusion that meals would not be together-time.

Sarah dumped the sloppy remains of her milkshake, utterly forgotten when something better had presented itself (or, rather, himself), down the garbage disposal. As the gloopy concoction dribbled down the drain, Sarah peeked out the insanely cheerful curtains, yellow with white daisies. A heavy fog hung in the air, thick and dark. She smirked; the weather always took such a turn when Sarah had 'company,' reflecting his current mood. Fog meant he was deeply asleep and dreaming. She rather enjoyed it, the world seemed steeped with mystery and enchantment in the swirling gray tendrils of mist, but the weathermen were utterly baffled.

Humming to herself, Sarah set to work. She diced onions and peppers, sliced mushrooms and shredded cheese. As she stood over the stove, stirring her scrambled egg casserole, Briann entered the kitchen looking extremely bleary.

Sarah mentally cursed, she had been sure that the girl had a photo shoot today. Briann pushed a tumble of sunshine curls out of her eyes with perfectly manicured fingers. Even with bed-head the girl looked fully the model she was. Eyeing Sarah's skillet nervously, she asked, "What is that? It actually smells good."

Thinking quickly, Sarah chirped, "It _is_ good! Eggs, mushrooms, cayenne peppers, dill pickles, marshmallows and cheese." She grinned at Briann, looking supremely proud of herself. Fortunately for her, she had the kind of wide-eyed innocent look that kept people from ever suspecting her of lying.

Her housemate looked positively nauseous but replied politely, "Sounds... um, interesting. Unfortunately, I have to be at my shoot in an hour. Thank God it wasn't at some killer time before the sun came up _again_, huh?"

Sarah nodded, "Right. Stupid early shoots. Very bad." Would the girl never leave her alone?

Briann grabbed a banana and headed back to her room to get ready. Half a minute later Roger or Matthew or maybe Paul was pushed roughly out the door. He wore only a pair of boxers (Sarah was glad that he wore anything at all), the rest of his clothes in a bundle tucked under his arm. He shot a glare at Briann's door and then at Sarah though the entryway into the kitchen. With a few muttered curses about the female gender, Roger or Matthew or maybe Paul dressed himself and left the house.

As Sarah dumped her eggs onto a plate, added some fresh grapes, and poured a large glass of orange juice, Briann re-emerged. She looked perfect, as usual. Of course she would be completely redone when she got to the studio, but heaven forbid she have a hair out of place on the way. Sarah picked up the meal and headed back to her bedroom, no one ate at their little, wobbly dining table.

Sarah reached for the doorknob, plate balanced on one hand and glass held in the crook of her arm, when Briann said, "Hey, I thought you hate mushrooms."

In a light voice, Sarah replied, "Who, me? That's silly, I adore mushrooms!" Giggling airily, Sarah slipped into her room and closed the door firmly. She waited a moment, listening through the wood with her heart in her throat, until she heard the front door open and close. Exhaling, Sarah turned back to her bedroom.

He looked immensely out of place in her room, which was draped in violet with baby blue accents. Even in sleep he looked imposing, like a predator. Not that she had much opportunity to see him sleep, of course. Usually he disappeared shortly after she drifted off. It was a rare treat that he had decided to stay the night, more than likely it meant his subjects were being particularly rowdy and he needed a break. Apparently even the Goblin King got sick of goblins from time to time.

Sarah set the plate and glass on her dresser and moved over to brush a strand of wild, blond hair from Jareth's face. He sighed softly in his sleep and leaned into the warmth of her hand, bringing a pleased smile to Sarah's lips. She almost hated to wake him but felt she had waited quite long enough for the pleasure of his _conscious_ company. No one had ever accused Sarah Williams of being a patient woman.

She leaned down close to him and opened her mouth to whisper his name, but paused. Seized by a wicked impulse, she stuck her tongue in his ear instead. Jareth's eyes snapped open immediately and he jerked away from her. He glared at the woman, raising a hand to wipe away saliva. Choking on giggles, Sarah told him, "It's your own fault. How many times have you woken me up in the same way _or worse_?"

Jareth's chin lifted and he opened his mouth to reply, but Sarah cut him off by leaping to her feet and fetching the meal she had prepared. With a little grin, she placed the food before him. Jareth looked grumpy but accepted her offer, digging in with relish. Sarah had discovered a while ago that the Goblin King had a rarely-indulged fetish for human food.

As he ate, sitting in bed with Sarah's lavender sheets pooled around his waist, Sarah perched on the foot of the mattress and watched him. She knew how it inflated his already mammoth ego, but she could not help herself. She loved to watch him; the way he moved with casual grace, his elegant but cruel mannerisms and the way he always seemed ready to pounce like a great cat upon its prey, not to mention his achingly perfect good looks. She would never understand why he choose to spend his time with her, but she was not about to complain.

He had inhaled nearly three-fourths of the plate before he glanced up at her and asked, "Are you not going to eat?"

Sarah grinned and shook her head. "No," she replied, "I hate mushrooms."

xXx

"Let me make certain I understand this," Jareth said, "You have terminated your employment, something I urged you to do long ago you might recall, and now in celebration you are going to become some sort of hermit?" Jareth lounged on the couch, one leg thrown over the back, while Sarah moved about the apartment, putting together a box of essentials for her camping trip. She had decided not to mention the use to which the couch had been put the previous night. With Briann in the house no furniture was safe anyway, and very little floor space.

She paused in her packing to give him a dirty look. "First," she replied, "You urged me to quit working permanently to come live at your castle. I left my current job but I plan on finding a new one... eventually."

Jareth's nose went up, "Of course. I can completely understand why you would choose to toil amongst these vermin for insufficient compensation and to dwell in this filthy, overcrowded city rather than to return with me to a land of magic and live in the lap of luxury in my castle."

Sarah grinned at him, "I knew you would."

He glared, but dropped the argument. They had been over this perhaps a thousand times and he still could not understand her reasoning. He knew she hated her life here and would jump at the chance to escape Underground with him. Something held her back though, she would not say what but when Jareth discovered it, he would put an end to it swiftly and ruthlessly.

"And second," Sarah continued, picking up where she had left off before, "I am _not_ becoming a hermit. I'm just going out to be surrounded by nature for a week or so. I need to be alone for a while."

Jareth pouted regally (2). When Sarah walked past him, intent on fetching the flashlight she thought was maybe in the closet, Jareth's hand whipped out and closed around her wrist. With a smooth tug, he pulled her into his lap, trapped in his arms. "All alone?" he asked, trailing his hand up and down her side so that his fingers just barely brushed down her breast, stomach, hip and thigh and up again.

Fight it as she might (which was not really all that hard), Sarah felt herself melting under his touch. A low hum of pleasure rose in her throat as she leaned into him, twining her legs with his. Twisting about, she kissed his neck, just below his ear, and said, "I suppose I could stand a _little_ company..."

Sarah hopped to her feet, leaving Jareth empty-handed and with a bewildered look on his face. She smirked at him, "You could use a vacation from all that Goblin Kinging anyway. I'm glad you decided to come with me."

He blinked a couple of times and said, "Come with you?"

Sarah opened to closet and triumphantly retrieved her flashlight. "Mmhmm," she replied. She turned to him and, in her best imitation of his accent, said, "Come away with me, my dear, even if just for a week."

To Sarah's surprise, Jareth actually looked intrigued. She had fully expected him to laugh her suggestion off; they had never spent more than a night in each other's company. She was delighted when he said, "I suppose I could afford a small holiday."

Laughing happily, Sarah leaned over the back of the couch and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You're really coming? This is going to be so much fun! We'll have campfires and roast hot dogs and go swimming in the lake... Maybe we'll even go fishing!" She giggled, feeling more giddy and excited about this trip than was probably dignified and not caring. "I have to say," she said, "I never thought I would see the great Goblin King sleeping in a tent!"

Jareth pulled her around and back into his lap, she made no attempt to escape this time. He pressed a hot, insistent kiss to her lips and whispered, "Anything for you, Sarah." His hands began roving her body once more and, just before Sarah lost herself completely in his touch, she chuckled at her own hypocrisy and hoped desperately that Briann did not come home early.

xXx

A long time later two bodies lay entwined on the couch, clothing tossed about them at random. Sarah traced her finger in idle patters on Jareth's chest while he stroked her hair. Both breathed deep and slow, eyes heavily lidded with contentment.

Suddenly Jareth's eyes popped open. "Did you say _a tent_?"

xXx

Author's Note:

(1) - A recipe which takes real talent. My husband made it for me once.

(2) - Yes, it is possible, but only Jareth can pull it off. Don't try, you'll only sprain something.

Unlike Magic Eyes and The Daydreamer and the King, I have no idea where I'm going with this. I'm just sort of letting my brain go where it wants. Apparently my brain really wants to go camping.

Camping with a sexy Goblin King.

Can you blame it?

Also: Game time! I recently purchased the Best of Bowie CDs and have been listening to them far more than is likely good for me. As such, I've decided that the chapter titles for this story will all be lyrics from those songs. Virtual cookies to the first person who reviews with the song that the title comes from! (Ok, so some, like this chapter, will be super easy, but I'll try to throw out some tricky ones.)


	3. Chapter 3

My Immortal Lover

By Danika Lareyna

Chapter Three

Everything's Falling Into Place

A look of purest horror passed over Jareth's pale face. He raised his eyes from the scene of devastation before him to Sarah's wicked smile. Sweet, lovely Sarah, _his _Sarah, could she really be so cruel? She waggled her eyebrows at him (1). She could. In a tone of deep disgust, he muttered, "You sank my battleship."

Sarah leapt to her feet and punched the air, startling Jareth until he realized that it was some sort of odd, mortal victory celebration. She crossed her arms and smirked down at him, "Defeated by little Sarah _again_, Your Majesty? I would have thought that, after the Labyrinth, you would have learned better than to compete against me again."

He turned from her, raising his nose primly. "This pathetic game is nothing compared to my Labyrinth," he replied.

She planted her fists on the edges of the table, leaning across the game and forcing him to look at her. A sort of manic glee shone in her eyes and her wide grin was twisted. Jareth eyed her warily and shifted uncomfortably in his hard, wooden chair. Her voice was tight and far happier than it should be as she said, "Whether it is pathetic or not, you agreed to the terms of our little wager. Do you plan to go back on your words?"

"But Sarah..." he said, sounding whiny even to his own ears.

"But nothing, Jareth!" she exclaimed. "You agreed. If you won we would have spent the camping trip in the woods of the Labyrinth. Now you have to live up to your end of the bet." Her eyes sparkled, "No magic, except what I agree to, for the entire week."

Jareth whimpered.

xXx

"Because we need food and some more gear before we can head out," Sarah replied, looking much put upon. "And no, you cannot just magic it up. I let you poof some Aboveground clothes, so stop whining!"

She had to admit, Jareth looked _almost_ human in the navy t-shirt, black jeans and leather boots. Why everything he wore had to be so _tight_ was beyond her, but she supposed she should just be grateful that there were no ruffles to be seen. He glared out the window, slouched down in his seat with his arms crossed, in a fine pout. "I do not _poof_ things," he muttered. "Moreover, I do not see why I could not have remained at your home while you do this... _shopping_."

"Simple," she said, "I don't trust you. I know that if Briann or one of her weird friends came home, you'd cause trouble. I really don't feel like trying to talk my way out of _another_ one of your little 'jokes,' Jareth." Visions of the time he had thought it amusing to remove gravity from her room flitted through her mind. While it had been... _interesting_ while he was there, it had lost its appeal when he had returned Underground and left her furniture (and her) floating around the ceiling.

A little voice in the back of Sarah's mind asked her whether she really wanted to take Jareth into the mall, given his sense of humor. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened and she glanced over at him, staring at the passing vehicles from beneath tightly knit brows. She considered offering to let him wait in the car but could not decide if that would be better or worse. Turning her gaze back to the street, Sarah reassured herself that he was just a man now, bereft of his magic.

The little voice in the back of her head laughed at her.

xXx

"You can purchase any of these things?" Jareth asked, eyeing the window displays as they strolled though the mall. It was a rather sad little thing, as malls went. A single floor with shops lining either side of the two long hallways which bisected each other perpendicularly in the middle. There were larger and more impressive malls closer to her home, but Sarah had felt that, for Jareth's first shopping trip, this would be more than enough. He hesitated a moment, taking in with apparent fascination a shop full of lawn mowers. This little mall would be more than enough.

"Sure, you can buy just about anything," she agreed. "If you're rich. Which I'm not. So don't get your hopes up." Sarah shifted, uncomfortably. Everywhere they went people were turning to follow them with their eyes. Jareth acted as if he did not notice, but he was strutting even more than usual, the low heels on his leather boots clacking rhythmically. She felt a blush rising in her cheeks, noticing that he was getting appreciative looks from both female and male shoppers.

"Here," she said, tugging Jareth into their first stop, a sporting goods store. "I'm going to get what we need. Look around but try not to break anything, ok?" His look clearly told her that he did not appreciate being spoken to like a willful six year old. As Jareth headed towards the fishing supplies, which suddenly looked ominous and... pointy, Sarah wondered if it was all really worth the effort. Watching him prick his finger on a fishing hook and stick it in his mouth with a little glare (she was certain that, were he able to use his powers, the bit of metal would have suddenly begun a fascinating new life as a clod of dirt), she smiled fondly and decided that it was.

Sarah had not needed much and within fifteen minutes she had made her purchases: a new cooler, an extra sleeping bag and a large bottle of the strongest sunblock she could find (2). Her eyes had hovered on a red and blue plaid shirt of heavy flannel, picturing it upon the Goblin King, accented by a sweeping black cloak and perhaps one of those hats with the ear flaps. Snickering, she set about searching for Jareth.

Sarah found him contemplating a wall covered in stuffed animal head trophies. Deer, moose, elk and mountain goats glared down morosely though gleaming, glass eyes. "Simply barbaric," he purred, as she stepped up next to him. She nodded her agreement and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, "Do you think I could convince them to mount a goblin head or two?"

"Jareth!" Sarah exclaimed, "That's horrible!"

"My dear lady," Jareth replied, looking dignified, "Perhaps you have forgotten, but I am the Goblin King. It is my job to be horrible. And, if I do say so myself, I'm quite good at it." He did a little florish which would most likely have looked very impressive and intimidating in a cape but in jeans looked rather ridiculous.

"Well maybe to poor, innocent young girls who accidentally wish away their little brothers, but to your own subjects?" Sarah grabbed his arm in one hand and the cooler (now filled with her other purchases) in the other as she spoke, towing both out of the store. Jareth, in an endless endevor to make her life miserable, hung back enough to make her have to drag him.

"Especially to my subjects," he said. "Maybe a few visual reminders of what I do to those who annoy me too much will keep the other little buggers in line. Yes... I think they would look quite charming in the throne room, or perhaps the dining hall."

Sarah glanced at him over her shoulder, dragging his feet like a petulant child. She smiled; he would never be as wicked as he liked the world to believe but she would not tell him that now. No need to let him know that she was on to his secret shame, that she knew he was actually _decent_ when he forgot himself. Her smile spread to a grin as she wondered how much he would forget himself after a week without magic, sequins, goblins for kicking or decent toilets (3).

Their next stop was a clothing store sporting a wide variety of cheap apparel for men, women and children. The key word, to Sarah's mind, was 'cheap.' She supposed that it would be even more frugal to let him continue magicking Aboveground clothes, but the opportunity to take control of Jareth's wardrobe for a week was far too enticing to pass up. The sales girls got one look at Jareth and their eyes lit up like Christmas had come early. Immediately they were surrounded by offers of fashion advice, complimentary manicures and home phone numbers. Jareth seemed highly amused; Sarah turned them down politely but firmly.

Moments later they were browsing amongst the men's section, Sarah occassionally plucking an item from the racks (by and large marked 'clearance') to add to Jareth's growing pile to be tried on. The Goblin King took one look at the selection, utterly lacking in style or flare, and divorced himself from the procedure, following Sarah around with a disgusted sneer.

One item, casually tossed onto the stack in Jareth's arms, did cause him to react. "Sarah," he said, as she dug through another sale rack, "There is something wrong with these trousers. I believe they have been improperly hemmed."

Sarah glanced back at the article in question and replied, "No, they're just shorts. They're cooler than pants; it's going to be hot up at the lake."

Jareth's voice dropped low and he leaned close to her to whisper, "But Sarah, if I wear this... people will be able to see my _knees_."

Sarah froze and stared at him in silence for a long moment, until Jareth began to wonder if perhaps she had taken ill. Then, quite unexpectedly, she burst into a rather loud fit of laughter. He stared at her, completely nonplussed, until she managed to gasp, "With the clothes you wear... you're worried about... _knees_!" At this she disolved into laughter once more, until Jareth thought she may hyperventilate.

Much, much later, when Sarah had finally managed to control the random bursts of giggles which tended to sneak up on her and Jareth had tried on what to anyone else would have been a mammoth amount of clothes but to him was approximately equivalent to a days wardrobe (if less sparkly), they left the store, both laden with more bags than Sarah wanted to think about. She had even managed to convince him to try on the shorts, which he found quite freeing and they ended up purchasing three pairs of. Jareth was also introduced to the concept of underpants, which he found needless and silly, but Sarah insisted.

As they made their way towards the mall entrance, they debated whether or not fur and leather should be considered murder (4), a conversation Sarah would have never expected to share with the King of the Underground. Sarah was preparing to make a scathing and well thought out comeback when she realized that Jareth was no longer walking beside her. Glancing back, she found him standing a few feet to her rear with wide, pathetic eyes and a little pout playing on his lips.

When Jareth made the puppy-dog eyes, Sarah new she was in trouble. _Nobody_ could resist those eyes. With a much put upon sigh, Sarah asked, "What is it, Jareth?"

"Saaarah," he said, sounding for all the world like her little brother when he had his sights on something he knew he was not supposed to have. Jareth pointed to the shop they had just passed and, with a hopeful glimmer in his mismatched eyes, said, "I want an ice cream."

xXx

(1) I cannot picture Sarah waggling her eyebrows at Jareth without cracking up. Oh my.

(2) All that pretty, pale, Goblin King skin looks as if it would crisp black within ten minutes of direct sunlight.

(3) And if it's bad by goblin standards you _know_ it's icky!

(4) Jareth's stance, unsurprisingly, was, "Yes, of course it's murder. But it makes me look smashing so who cares?" Sarah took a slightly more conservative stance.

Virtual cookies to **White Rose Whithering **who was the first to correctly identify that the title from Chapter One came from Cat People (Putting Out Fire) and Chapter Two came from Let's Dance. Good job to everyone who got them correct. Let the Bowie-love continue, virtual bon-bons to whoever reviews with the name of the song this title comes from.

Also, I am terribly sorry for the sad state of this chapter but I have no spellcheck here at work (yes, I'm at work at 4am on a Friday, and I work in the hospital so I get to see the best of society on nights like these. Pity me.). I will try to remember to edit this when I'm at home and repost, but no promises. Feel free to ridicule my mistakes and, hopefully, prompt me to remember.


	4. Chapter 4

My Immortal Lover

By Danika Lareyna

Chapter Four

It Seemed The Taste Was Not So Sweet

Sarah rested her chin in her hand as she watched Jareth dig gleefully into his banana split, her own half-melted butterscotch sundae entirely forgotten. A quick glance out the window told her what a good mood Jareth was in; the sun shone bright and everything seemed to sparkle as if covered in a morning dew. A morning dew at two-thirty in the afternoon. A silly smile graced her lips as she wished for a camera. How often did one have a chance to see the Goblin King, Terror of the Underground, with a smear of chocolate sauce on the end of his nose?

As often happened when Sarah found herself too happy with him, a wave of bittersweet emotion washed over her. She was in love with him. She was hopelessly, desperately and pathetically in love with him. Sarah knew, as intimately as she knew her own name, that she would never be able to care for anyone the way she cared for Jareth. She also knew that what they had was fleeting and that he did not love her in return. He was Fae, immortal and fickle. Was he even capable of love?

Jareth swallowed the last spoonful of his treat and, without being asked, scooped up his cherry and plopped it into Sarah's bowl. He knew how fond she was of maraschino cherries. Had he been human, she would have been tempted to ask him to marry her then and there. As it was, she very nearly cried.

xXx

"Will you just _get_ in the car?" Sarah exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. A wisp of fog drifted in front of her nose and she batted at it with a frown. A very bleary Goblin King stumbled past her, muttering about fiendish women and ungodly hours before collapsing into the passenger seat.

"Oh, don't act so put upon, Jareth," Sarah snapped, checking once more that everything they required for their trip was present and well secured. "I've been up for an hour and a half getting everything ready and loaded. You know we have a long drive ahead of us, and we had to get out before Briann woke up. Right?"

She slid behind the wheel and glanced over at him. Unfortunately her only reply was a soft snore as Jareth slumped against his window, mouth hanging slightly open. With a snort, Sarah put the vehicle into reverse and muttered, "Well at least he put his seatbelt on."

xXx

"Are you quite certain that your vehicle is capable of traversing this road?" Jareth asked. His attempts to remain dignified and aloof were ruined by the fact that he was clutching the edges of his seat and turning a delicate shade of green. The Goblin King's wispy hair bounced and his slightly pointed teeth rattled as Joseph (1) plowed through holes and over rocks. The road was narrow, dusty, ill-kept and seemed to lead straight up the face of a cliff.

Sarah smirked without taking her eyes from the path. "You can't get to a decent campground, and by decent I mean one that is not overrun by people, without a little effort. Don't worry, we'll make it." Her fingers tightened on the wheel as they hit a particularly large dip, approximately the size of Sarah's bathtub, and she murmured, just loud enough so that she was certain he heard her, "I hope..."

Jareth gave her a weak smile and concentrated on keeping his breakfast where it belonged. Fae Royalty did _not_ toss their cookies.

xXx

"If you are _quite_ through," Sarah said, rolling her eyes, "You might actually look around and realize that the drive was worth it."

Jareth did not respond immediately. He was laying flat on his back on the side of the road, reveling in the fact that he was alive and not moving. His eyes were closed and his arms spread wide, basking in the sun which had, the moment the car had come to a halting stop, emerged from behind dark, swirling clouds. Dignity could just kiss his oh-so-perky rear-end; Sarah was probably the only human being for fifty miles anyway.

She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat and poked Jareth in the ribs with her toe. He pulled a face at her but sat up to take in his surroundings. He had to admit, it was a lovely location and completely free of people. The lake was small and clear, surrounded by snow-capped mountaintops. The air was fresh and heavy with the scent of pine trees and the flourishing wildflowers. (2)

Cat-like, he put his nose in the air and sniffed, "I suppose it will suffice."

Sarah smiled down at him, fully aware that it was all an act. Reaching into the trunk, she threw a sleeping bag at his head. Effortlessly, he snatched it out of the air before it could even muss his hair. "Help me set up camp," she said, as he glared at her, "And it will be even nicer."

With exaggerated laziness, he stood and stretched. His gaze traveled around the small area which she had designated their campsite. It was little more than a dirt-covered clearing with trees forming a semicircle on one side and the rocky shore of the lake on the other, barely large enough for her vehicle and the spot she had chosen to set up the tent. There was, miracle of miracles, a small fire pit, set up with a metal grate for cooking. At no small distance through the trees, Sarah pointed out the silhouette of a small building she had labeled the 'outhouse.' Jareth was not certain what that was supposed to be, but it sounded ominously barbaric.

There was a clattering crash as Sarah dumped the tent stakes unceremoniously on the ground next to the car. Taking in Jareth's slightly bewildered, slightly disgusted countenance, she decided that she would have to take it easy on him for a while. He was, after all, a king, and unused to the joys of living simply. Feeling awfully generous, she said, "Why don't you set up the tent and I'll go get some wood. We'll have dinner and then maybe go for a swim. Sound good?"

He snorted, "You expect me to remain here and do something so... _domestic_ while you fetch the firewood? I think not."

Sarah bristled. Sometimes his antiquated notions about the sexes was amusing, sometimes charming, and sometimes, such as now, infuriating. "You will stay here and set up the tent," she snapped, "Because somehow, despite being the ruler of the most complicated and confusing Labyrinth in the Underground or Above, you have no sense of direction whatsoever. If I let you wander off you will be lost within ten minutes and probably eaten by a bear within fifteen!" With a snarl, Sarah spun on her heel and marched into the trees. As she went, she called over her shoulder, "And remember, _NO_ magic!"

Jareth, wide-eyed, glanced from her retreating back to the dissembled tent and back. Under his breath, he murmured, "What in the name of the seven hells is a bear?"

xXx

When Sarah returned to camp, her arms full of large, dry sticks, her temper was still sizzling. The entire time she had searched for wood, she had planned and replanned what she would say to the frustrating Fae when she saw him again. As soon as she saw him, the words died on her lips.

The tent hung approximately ten feet off of the ground, its corners tied to different tree branches so that it sagged like an oddly shaped hammock. Beneath it, sitting with arms and legs crossed, sat the Goblin King. He was a mess, with dirt smudged across his cheek and pine-needles in his spiky hair. He looked immensely pleased with himself.

He lifted his chin and said in an arrogant tone, "Really Sarah, you could simply have told me that you shied to tackle such a difficult task yourself." When she did not respond, he continued, pointing to the collapsed tent poles, laying abandoned to the side. "I admit, I am curious as to what those are supposed to be."

At last, the shock wore off and Sarah responded in the only way she could. She dropped her load of wood and bent over, clutching her stomach and laughing riotously.

xXx

"I still think it would have worked just as well the way I had it," Jareth snorted, primly.

"I'm certain it would have," Sarah replied, crumpling an old newspaper and tucking it into her expertly constructed pile of sticks which would soon be a roaring campfire. "Until it rained of course. Then the rain that was coming down at an angle would soak us and the rain that was falling straight would have filled up the tent until it collapsed onto us and, most likley, drowned us both then and there."

"Really," the Goblin King scoffed, "Have you ever seen it rain when I was present?"

Blithely, Sarah replied, "Yes, that time you watched A Walk to Remember with me (3)." The memory of Jareth, trying to sniffle discreetly into a tissue while a steady stream of cold rain drummed against the windows, almost brough a chuckle to Sarah's throat, but she fought it back valiantly.

Jareth's voice was cold. "I thought we agreed _never_ to speak of that again."

xXx

"Hungry?" Sarah asked.

"Famished," he replied. "Might I ask what we will be having for supper?"

Sarah grinned at him, "We're going to roast wieners!"

Funny. Sarah would not have thought Jareth's alabaster skin could pale anymore.

xXx

Jareth sat on an overturned log, deeply concentrating on the hot dog he held suspended over the flames. Sarah was on the ground at his feet, leaning against his thigh and licking the juice of her own meal off of her fingers. "See?" she said, grinning at him, "I told you that you would like them."

"I still insist that it is a barbaric manner of preparing a meal," he replied, fishing a bun from the bag to pull the sixth wiener from his roasting stick (4). Sarah only laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face against his stomach as she giggled. Jareth responded by shifting the hot dog to his other hand and stroking her hair.

A moment later, Jareth popped the last bite into his mouth and glanced down at Sarah, whose eyes had drifted closed as she relaxed against him. Nearly choking on his food, he murmured, "Oops…"

Sarah's eyes fluttered open and she glanced up at him. "Oops?" she asked, her voice slightly dreamy.

Jareth removed his hand from her hair. "Erm… yes. Oops."

Sarah's brows drew down and she reached up to her head, where his hand had just been. When her fingers met with a mysterious wetness she pulled them back quickly. The sticky, red smear caused her eyes to widen and her breath to catch. "What…? What…!"

Reluctently, Jareth took her by the wrist and gently lifted her hand to lick the liquid from her fingers. Sarah gaped at him for a long moment, completely at a loss, until comprehension sparked. "You put your icky, ketchup-covered fingers in my _hair_!" she exclaimed.

The Goblin King turned his face from her, trying to hide the smirk tugging at his thin lips. "Oops."

xXx

Sarah's head popped out of the tent, a wide, wicked grin on her face. "Oops," she said.

Jareth felt a tickle of apprehension, but ruthlessly quashed it. "Oops?" he asked.

Sarah nodded, exiting the tent to stand before him in the flimsy bits of cloth she had labeled a 'swimsuit.' Were there any other humans nearby, Jareth would have been loathe to let her wear the thing. As it was, he rather wished she would remove the towel draped around her waist.

The dark-haired woman nodded, walking towards him with a decided swing to her hips and an unconvincing pout on her lips. "Oops," she said, coming to a stop extremely close to Jareth and taking a deep breath.

Distracted by the effects of that deep breath on Sarah's anatomy, Jareth murmured one more, "Oops?"

"It would seem," Sarah said, her eyes wide, "That we somehow managed to forget to pick up an essential bit of clothing while shopping for you." She reached up and began to twirl a strand of dark hair around her finger.

"What would that be?"

Sarah leaned against Jareth, looking up at him from beneath long lashes, which she batted at him, just for good measure. "A swimsuit," she replied.

His arms came naturally to drape around her waist. Once more mentally cursing the large, pastel towel, Jareth said, "Well then I suppose I will have to make-"

"Oh no!" she exclaimed, cutting him off vehemently. He blinked at her and she immediately returned to her innocent act, sticking her lower lip out and toying with the collar of his shirt. "You know the rules. No magic."

Jareth's eyes began to drift closed as he enjoyed the sensation of her fingers on the sensitive skin of his neck. "But then…?"

"Oh," Sarah said, "I'm _sure_ you'll think of _something_." And then she was gone, jogging towards the water's edge. With a wiley grin, she called over her shoulder, "Well? Are you coming?"

Momentarily stunned at her sudden departure, Jareth blinked at her retreating form. When he had recovered, his lips twisted in an amused smirk and he muttered, "Minx."

Then he began jogging after her.

xXx

(1) - Sarah's car, remember? Bah, go back and read chapter one again Short-Term-Memory-Loss-Man (or Woman) (or possibly Other)

(2) – A lovely little spot in the Mission Mountains. Why Sarah drove all the way to Montana to go camping is beyond me.

(3) – Additional disclaimer: I do not own A Walk to Remember. Um… think of it as free advertising?

(4) – In all fairness, the first two were torched beyond edibility as Jareth accustomed himself to cooking over a campfire. Of course he insisted that it was done on purpose.

Super easy title today. I had intended to come up with a really tricky one, now that my collection has extended significantly beyond just the Best of Bowie… but you'll have to wait for the really hard ones next time.

**Lake of Fire** WOULD get the virtual bon-bons for guessing that last chapter's title was from Thursday's Child, but she made a fuss because it was not virtual cookies, so they go to **White Rose Withering **instead. Ha! Take that, Miss Picky!


	5. Chapter 5

My Immortal Lover

By Danika Lareyna

Chapter Five

She's Uncertain if She Likes Him, But She Knows She Really Loves Him

Sarah floated lazily on her back, watching the clouds turn spectacular shades of red and orange. Her swimsuit had been 'lost at sea' relatively quickly, but she did not really mind. She doubted Jareth would ever allow her to wear it in public, despite the fact that it was relatively modest, as bikinis went.

She glanced over at him, laying on his stomach atop a large, flat-topped boulder which jutted out of the water a good distance from the shore. His damp body almost seemed to glitter in the last rays of the setting sun. His hair, somehow spikey even when soaked, flared around his head like a pale halo. With a grin, she turned over and began to stroke towards him.

The boulder was somewhat higher than she had expected and, try as she might, Sarah could not seem to find a convenient way up. "Jareth?" she called, "Help me?" The Goblin King did not reply. "Jareth, there is no fog. I know you're awake." Still there was no answer. "Jareth!" she exclaimed, "Help me up!" With a frustrated grunt, Sarah scooped a handful of cold lake water and flung it up onto the Fae's back.

There was a small splash and an indignant squawk from atop the stone (1). Sarah's chortling was interupted when she suddenly rose dripping from the lake to hover approximately five feet over the water. Jareth smirked up at her, laying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head.

"Jareth," she growled, "What do you think you are doing?" Feeling extremely exposed and vulnerable, hanging nude in midair, she pulled her knees up to her chest and crossed her arms, glaring at him balefully.

"You said you wanted up," he replied. "You are up."

"Well, let me down!" Sarah realized her mistake the moment the words left her mouth. She only had time for her wide eyes to see him raise his eyebrows in amusement before she plunged back into the icy water.

When, at last, she rose, spluttering, to the surface, she found a pale hand extended down to her. She vaguely considered ignoring it, or perhaps giving it a good bite, but eventually grasped it and allowed Jareth to haul her atop the rock with him. As Sarah pulled her sopping locks into some semblence of order, her companion stretched back onto his stomach, saying, "Really, my dear, you need to be more specific in your requests."

"And you," Sarah replied, "Are not supposed to be using magic."

"Oops," he said, unconcerned.

Sarah flopped down next to him, cuddling her dripping body close to his. He shuddered once, but did not protest. Pressing her cheek to the sun-warmed skin of his back, she purred, "You realize that I will have to punish you for that."

His body shook with a low chuckle. "How do you intend to do that?"

Her eyes drifted closed as he curled an arm around her waist, tracing light circles on her bare skin. "I'm not sure yet," she sighed, "I will have to think on it to come up with something suitably horrific."

"I am terrified," he said.

"Mmm… you should be."

Curled blissfully against her lover, completely open to the warm, evening air, Sarah drifted into a peaceful sleep. In her dreams, she traveled back, to the time when Jareth had returned to her life. She returned to the first time she saw him after uttering the fatal words, "You have no power over me."

xXx

At twenty-one years old, Sarah was a perfectly well-adjusted, normal person.

The problem was, at no point in Sarah's life had she ever desired such a thing as normalcy. In fact she often did odd things intentionally, to disabuse the notion that she might be average; singing loudly to herself on the subway, making friends with small animals and always riding elevators balanced on one foot, for example.

She experienced a strange mix of emotions, therefore, when she walked into her favorite coffee shop one day to find the Goblin King, sitting in a corner sipping a cappuccino.

First, she felt confusion. Why was Jareth here? Why was he drinking a coffee and acting as if he was unaware of her presence? Why was he wearing that atorcious, gray sweater-vest? Then Sarah decided that it was Jareth, after all, and there was little point questioning anything he did.

Second, she felt exhasperation. How dare he try to just waltz back into her life? She had defeated him. She had won and now he had to leave her alone. Then she realized that her life was sorely lacking in extremely sexy, mystical kings and that she probably should not complain about his reappearance.

Then, at last, she felt elation. At the very least, this was something different. Something that was in no way normal. And if it was unusual, then it could not be all bad.

xXx

Since it did not seem that Jareth intended to approach her, calmly sipping his drink and flipping through a small, hard-back book, Sarah decided to take her time. She ordered a tall, iced mocha, grabbed a battered copy of National Geographic (2) from the magazine rack and wandered over as if it was complete coincidence that she chose the chair next to him.

Sarah carefully arranged herself in the low, squashy armchair, her legs crossed and her hair pulled over her shoulder just so. After fifteen minutes of pretending to be deeply engrossed in an article about the endangered tarsiers of Borneo, she lost her patience. Sarah cleared her throat loudly, recrossed her legs and shuffled her magazine.

Jareth did not seem to notice. Everyone else in the coffee shop did and were not shy about staring at her. A few of the ladies shot a glance at Jareth and gave her a knowing wink. A few more of the ladies shot a glance at Jareth and glared murder at Sarah, looking as if they wished they had seen him first. So did a few of the men.

For a moment, Sarah wondered if perhaps she had been mistaken and this man she was sitting next to only resembled the Goblin King. Then she decided that only Jareth would show up in a coffee shop in an atrocious, gray sweater-vest, eye make-up and sparkly lip gloss. Sarah sighed and decided that, once again, she would have to play his game. If he wanted her to approach him first, then so be it.

"What are you doing here, Jareth?" she asked.

"Drinking cappuccino," he replied, without taking his eyes from the book.

Sarah suddenly remembered how much much Jareth annoyed her. Digging her nails into the arms of her chair, she said, "So I see. Do you come here for cappuccino often?"

Slowly, Jareth licked his thumb and turned the page of his book. Still not looking at her, he said, "No. I find it to be a disgusting concoction and I cannot imagine how you humans can consume it so often. In truth, I have been transforming the liquid to a fine wine the moment it touches my tongue. Unfortunately I would not look very convincing if I were to come here and conjure my own goblet."

Try as she might, Sarah could not help but smile. "And the atrocious, gray sweater-vest?"

At last Jareth looked up at her and, for the first time, Sarah realized that he had a pair of small, rectangular reading glasses balanced on the end of his nose. He smirked at her and her heart gave a little flutter. "That I wore because I knew it would annoy you."

xXx

"So," Sarah said, rearranging herself in the chair so that she could lean towards him, "I will try again. What are you doing here, Jareth?"

The Goblin King balanced his book in one hand and drew a long finger down the page with the other. Where his skin touched, the page turned a shimmering shade of green, and as his finger moved down the green curled away from the page in the form of a ribbon. Carefully marking his place with the bookmark he had created, Jareth closed the book and tucked it into his sweater-vest where, Sarah was certain, it disappeared. Fascinated by the minor show of magic, she did not even mind the delay in his reply. "I was bored."

"So you came to see me?" she asked.

He nodded, removing his reading glasses and tucking them away with the book. "I was tired of watching you only through my crystals. You seemed bored as well, so I thought I would come to visit."

She smiled, "Well that makes sense. I have to admit, it is nice to see you again, especially when you are not trying to kidnap a member of my family. Things have been pretty dull since I saw you last. I just have one teensy, little question."

Jareth arched a pointed eyebrow.

Leaping to her feet, Sarah screeched, "_You've been spying on me?_"

He frowned, noting that everyone in the shop was staring at the two of them again. "Yes, well... I suppose I should not have said that. But let me show you something and I think you will forgive me."

She glowered at him and, through clenched teeth, said, "I doubt _that_ highly."

Jareth raised a hand and, with a flicking motion, brought a crystal to his fingertips. There were a number of gasps from around the room followed by the murmur of people arguing over how he had accomplished the feat. Ignoring his audience, with the exception of a dark-haired beauty trying to murder him with her eyes, Jareth spun the crystal. Light reflected off of it sending swirling lines across his face and hers. He held it up to her and said, "Look, Sarah."

Grudgingly, she looked.

There was a flash of blue light from within the sphere and a soft sound, like a candle being blown out.

xXx

"What were you saying, Sarah?" Jareth asked, folding his hands in his lap.

Sarah blinked, momentarily at a loss. She glanced around herself to see the other patrons of the coffee shop looking similarly bewildered before immediately turning back to their previous conversations. She floundered a bit, but finally said, "Um, what are you doing here?"

He smiled, "I must admit that, after so long, I missed the pleasure of your company."

Sarah gaped at him, completely taken aback by his charming demeanor. Jareth continued to smile at her, a vaguely predatory look in his mismatched eyes which sent a little shiver down her spine. Sarah deemed to ignore her reaction and focused on her response. "Oh." Well, she had tried.

Jareth stood and it occurred to Sarah that she was not entirely certain when she had gotten out of her chair. That minor mystery was forgotten as a hand, clad in rough woolen gloves which matched an atrocious, gray sweater-vest, cupped her cheek. Jareth stepped close to her, his eyes locked on hers. The slightly predatory look became downright hungry as he said in a low, hypnotic voice, "Yes, Sarah. You are no longer a child. I think I will enjoy the pleasure of your company much more now."

Sarah openned her mouth to respond but discovered that she was completely unable to make a sound. Jareth's smirk became a grin. He lowered his head to whisper directly into her ear, "I will see you again, Sarah. Soon."

She shivered as she felt him press his lips to her neck, just below her ear. She barely had time to register the electrifying sensations the kiss sent through her when his lips drew back and slightly-pointed teeth gently pricked her skin. She gasped softly and then he was gone.

With a muttered, "You weren't kidding when you said you could be cruel," Sarah raised a hand to her neck, where she was certain his teeth had left tiny red marks against her soft skin.

xXx

She was slow to wake, her groggy mind refusing to give up the plesant dream. In fact, she could still feel his sharp teeth pressing softly against her flesh. It was only when the feeling moved down to her shoulder and her brain registered a warm hand upon her side, that she realized she was not dreaming. Without openning her eyes, Sarah said, "You always have been pushy, haven't you?"

An amused voice spoke against her skin, "I am a king, I expect to get what I want."

She snorted, "I almost want to deny you, just on principle."

"Almost?"

"Almost."

Jareth purred and went back to nibbling her neck (3).

xXx

– Obviously from some random, passing goose. The Goblin King does _not_ squawk, even when a wicked girl splashes freezing water on his bare tushy.

– Her initial instinct was to select an issue of People, but she felt that approaching Jareth with a magazine about which celebrities were cheating on their significant others did not present the most dignified front. Little did she know that Jareth followed People religiously.

– If it is not obvious by now, Danika has a major ear/neck fetish. Kiss her there and she is lost forever.

Yay! We have some semblence of a background story!

Virtual um... let's go with virtual pecan sandies to whoever guesses the song that the title came from. (Marti and Anij don't count, they got advanced peeks!) Come on now, people. **White Rose Withering** is practically rolling in virtual goodies by now. Let's get another winner this time! (Not that I don't adore you, Ruth. But really, we have to watch your virtual waist-line, right?)


	6. Chapter 6

My Immortal Lover

By Danika Lareyna

Chapter Six

You Could Spend the Morning Talking With Me, Quite Amazed

Sarah opened her eyes reluctantly. Muttering quiet curses at the world in general for imposing itself upon her blissful dreams, she tried to snuggle back into Jareth's comforting embrace and return to sleep. The feel of his smooth, bare chest against the skin of her equally bare back, her awareness of the gentle rhythm of his breathing, and the heady sensation of being utterly surrounded by his presence, were quite enough to convince her to ignore the fact that it was morning.

Unfortunately the sleeping bag they shared, cozy in the chill of a mountain night, was now stifling and she discovered that she was having a difficult time drawing a breath.

With a quiet sigh of defeat, Sarah struggled to untangle herself without waking him. Before she slipped away, she laid a kiss, soft as a breath, upon his temple. After she had gone, a small smile twisted the corner of his lips.

xXx

Sarah stretched her arms high above her head, glancing around at the shimmering lake and gently swaying trees. She breathed deep the crisp, fresh air, unique to high-mountain forests. The peace of the place, the freedom of having no responsibilities except to herself and the Fae in the tent behind her, made her head swim with giddiness. Part of her wished that she could stay like this forever, another part, the annoying and endlessly frustrating bit of logic that had somehow snuck into her head and could not be dislodged, reminded her that she needed the chaos of real life to appreciate this respite. With a mental snort, she stuck her tongue out at that bit of her psyche.

The sun barely peeked over the mountains and already it was burning away the wispy fog of Jareth's light sleep almost as fast as it could form. Smiling, Sarah lifted her thick, dark hair from her neck and caught it up in a loose knot. The vacation seemed to be doing Jareth good, too. He must be having nice dreams, she thought, hoping that they involved her.

She chuckled at herself as she grabbed her toothbrush and soap, heading down the rocky trail that wound to the outhouse. It amazed her, not that she could gauge his mood by the weather but that she did it now without a second thought. She did not know if she was the most fortunate woman in the world to be in her position... or just the most confused.

After brushing her teeth and washing her face with the rusted spigot which stuck out of the ground at an angle away from the back of the outhouse, Sarah wandered slowly back to the camp. The rustle of leaves and birdsong swirled around her; the cool shade of the trees embraced her. She breathed it all into herself, felt it cast its hypnotic spell on her. Everything was so... _alive_. Sarah closed her eyes and felt as if it were all a part of her, or she a part of it.

A slow smile spread across her lips. It was magic, and if there was a human on Earth who knew magic, it was Sarah. Jareth could not understand her reluctance to return with him to the Underground, to his magic, because he could not see the magic of her own world, a magic which she knew she could never wholly abandon.

Her smile twisted and she opened her eyes. Granted, it was a bit harder to understand the joys of Aboveground in the city where Sarah lived. Maybe this little trip would open Jareth's eyes. She doubted it, but she could always hope.

A flash of white and blue off through the trees caught her eyes and, with a gleeful exclamation, Sarah left the trail.

xXx

When Sarah returned to their camp, some time later, she found Jareth up and, much to her surprise, making breakfast. Two eggs and a veritable mountain of bacon sizzled in a pan on the cooking grate. Jareth liked bacon. Jareth liked just about anything that was not good for him. A stray thought floated in Sarah's mind and she wondered if that included her.

He did not look up as she crackled and snapped her way through the thick bushes, having been unable to find a decent trail back. Poking at the food with a spatula he said, "Where have you been? I was beginning to think you had been taken by one of those bear-creatures."

Sarah grinned, picking burrs from her pants. "I'm sorry, were you worried about me?"

"Of course not," he sniffed primly, "But I was rather afraid I would have to deal with an angry bear suffering from indigestion."

Sarah pouted, but it was lost on him as he still refused to look at her. She meandered over to stand behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and laying a soft kiss on his neck. "Come on, you couldn't have been too worried. I mean, you always know where I am. You would know immediately if something was wrong."

She felt the muscles of his back tense. In a low voice, he said, "That doesn't mean I like you wandering off on your own."

Running a finger along Jareth's sweeping jaw line (1), a little crease forming between her brows, Sarah said, "Jareth, up until this week we hardly ever saw each other outside of your occasional nightly visits. Why the sudden concern?"

He shrugged, obviously unwilling to discuss the subject further. Sarah frowned, but dropped it. There was no point agitating him. He would come out with it sooner or later. Instead she reached up to play with his hair and said, "Well, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it would bother you." He relaxed, leaning into her fingers. Jareth could never resist having his hair played with. She smiled, "When we're done with breakfast, I have something I want to show you."

xXx

Jareth lay on his back in the small field of wildflowers Sarah had discovered. Much to her delight, he had doffed his pink and green striped shirt so as to better take in the radiant morning sunshine (2). She happily studied the rise and fall of his chest. She loved watching him breath. She was not certain why, it just made him seem more... real.

After putting the finishing touches on her creation, Sarah reached over and lightly tickled Jareth's stomach. He immediately curled and twisted away from her, peeking open an eye to glare. She batted her lashes at him and, with a little simper, said, "Jareth? Sit up?"

Looking a bit more suspicious than Sarah thought was _really_ necessary, he complied. She snuggled up to him and draped her project, until then hidden behind her back, over his head. He jerked away, "Sarah, what-?"

"Hush," she commanded, sitting up on her knees and placing her hands to either side of his face, to steady him and also adjust her creation. He twitched like a nervous animal until she smiled reassuringly. At last, he relaxed and suffered her ministrations with only token protestations and demands to know what she was doing (which, of course, went unheeded).

When Sarah had finally convinced herself that she had it perfect, she released him and reached into her pack, retrieving a small compact. She opened it for him so that he could see the crown of flowers she had arranged atop his head. The main body was made of white, wild daisies, their pale yellow eyes blending into his hair. Woven throughout were tiny, blue cornflowers and sprigs of leaves, for color. In the front rose a plume of lily of the valley, splaying out in every direction, mimicking his hairstyle.

She could not help it; she giggled madly at the sight.

Jareth, who had been quite happily examining his appearance in the mirror, holding it out this way and that to see every angle, frowned at her. "If it was your intent to make me look... _silly_-"

She shook her head, holding up a palm to cut him off and trying desperately to get her laughter under control. At last she managed to take a deep breath and say, "No, that's not it. I mean, that _was _it. I did make that intending for you to look silly, but... you don't!" This brought on another fit of giggles through which she choked, "You manage to make even a goofy flower crown look good. Regal, even."

Grudgingly, Jareth's glower faded and he glanced into her small, hand-held mirror once more. It was obvious from his expression that she should have had no doubt that he could wear a flower crown and still appear dignified, and how _dare_ she question it? Sarah collapsed into giggles yet again.

When she finally regained control of herself, Jareth set down the mirror and leaned towards her. In a low, conspiratorial voice, he said, "Allow me the use of my magic."

Suddenly on guard, she asked, "Why?"

He scowled at her and did not answer. Sarah sighed and said, "Fine, but just this once."

Jareth smirked and drew a crystal from the air. He spun it back and forth along the back of his fingers. It picked up the colors of the flowers surrounding the couple, reflecting them in an entrancing swirl. With his other hand, Jareth plucked a tiny, purple flower, whose name Sarah did not know, and crushed it between his thumb and first finger. He sprinkled the remains of the little flower over the swiftly moving crystal; they sunk into it, as if its surface was liquid. The crystal glowed slightly and came to a stop atop Jareth's cupped fingers. With a little flourish, he held it out to her.

She gazed at it a moment; through the soft, blue light the crystal emitted, Sarah could see the bits of petal and leaf floating inside. Sparkling glitter swirled around the flower remains, making it seem almost like a snow globe. Slowly, not from hesitation but a desire to prolong the enchantment of the moment, she raised a finger and touched the shimmering orb. The instant she made contact with it, the crystal burst, silent and delicate as a bubble, but the flower and glitter remained. They swirled in the air over Jareth's hand a bit before swishing up to stream around Sarah's head. She could feel the tiny pulses of power as they settled about her brow, fading into the simple feel of something light resting against her forehead.

Jareth smirked and held the mirror up for her. She took it from him to better see what he had made her and a soft gasp escaped her lips. A row of the miniscule, purple flowers were strung evenly across her brow and through her hair on a chain as thin and delicate as a spider web. Tiny crystals, like dew drops, glistened here and there along the dainty headdress. It was so elegant and perfect that Sarah could not help but glance at the childish crown she had made Jareth and feel horribly foolish.

He grinned at her, sitting back and looking immensely proud of himself. "There now," he said. "I shall be king and you will be my queen (3). We shall be the rulers of the glorious kingdom of Little Field of Flowers by the Lake."

She smiled at him, shoving the melancholy feel of inferiority to the back of her mind. She would deal with it later, for now Jareth was in a good mood and she was not about to ruin it. "But you're already a king, remember?"

Eyes widening, Jareth feigned surprise. "Why, that's right!" He flopped back into the flowers, looking up at the clear, blue sky. "Pity," he said, "The kingdom of Little Field of Flowers by the Lake is rather more peaceful than the Labyrinth. Ah, but I suppose there's nothing for it. The goblins would be utterly lost without me."

She crawled over to lay next to him, twining one of her legs with his own. "The sacrifices you make for your subjects," she said with false sobriety. He tilted his head to look at her and she returned his gaze. They stared at each other for a moment and then, as if on cue, both snorted a chuckle.

xXx

Jareth sat on a large rock which lay on the shoreline of the lake. Behind him, he could hear fluttering of the light wind as it threw itself against their tent. Overhead, an eagle winged its way back to a nest, where hungry eaglets waited. On the far side of the lake, clear to Jareth's sharp, Fae eyes, two does stepped delicately amongst the cattails, coming to the water for a drink. He ignored all of these, though. His attention was focused on the young woman whose head periodically popped up from the surface of the lake, only to disappear below again a moment later.

He could not, for the life of him, discern what was bothering her. The moment they had returned to camp, she had proclaimed the need for a swim. Now she was playing a game with herself, seeing how long she could hold her breath under water and how far she could swim before having to return to the surface for air. Tomorrow, Jareth decided, he would transform her into a mermaid and allow her to explore the lakebed at her leisure. He smiled; she would like that.

She surfaced again, facing him this time. Their eyes met and she waved briefly, before disappearing again. His smile faded; what was bothering her?

He turned to look at a tree standing near her vehicle. On a short, low branch, bare of leaves, hung their flower crowns. He crooked a finger and they rose up to float near and hover before him. Jareth examined them as they slowly rotated in the air. Obviously whatever was wrong had something to do with these, but what?

The crown she had made wobbled slightly as it floated, being somewhat lopsided and top-heavy. Its counterpart, on the other hand, was perfectly balanced and sparkled where the sun hit it. Magic certainly made thing easier. However...

Jareth's finger brushed one of the green leaves woven into the larger crown. He had never had the desire to create something with his own hands. He was a creature of magic, why should he? And yet, for some reason utterly beyond him, Sarah made him want to make something. To make something for her, without magic.

The thought was ridiculous.

With a casual flick of his fingers, the crowns sailed back to their resting spot on the tree limb. As he watched them gently settle into place, something behind them caught his attention. A small plume of dust rose above the trees from the direction of the road. Someone was coming.

With a thought, Jareth caught Sarah's attention. She would never know that the sudden desire to look over at him had come from anywhere other than her own mind. She rose to the surface and, following Jareth's gaze, saw the signs of an approaching vehicle as well.

Jareth waited patiently as Sarah stroked back to shore, coming to stand next to the rock upon which he was perched. At the same time as Sarah laid a dripping hand on Jareth's shoulder, the car crested the hill and pulled up next to the lake.

Three people got out of the vehicle, two adults and a child. Their attention was focused on their surroundings and Jareth was relatively certain Sarah and he had not been seen yet. He glanced over at Sarah, intending to ask what she planned to do now that they were not alone in their camping, but the words died on his lips. Sarah was pale, her eyes huge and her grip on his shoulder slowly tightening.

"Oh my god," she hissed, "It's my family."

xXx

(1) - One of the benefits of dating a Fae, you never have to worry about stubble.

(2) - For such a pale guy, he really likes to bask in the sun.

(3) - Ok, so I _could_ have made that the chapter title... but come on, that's way too easy.

Wow, so... Hi! Remember me? Come on, think _really_ hard. I apologize profusely for the delay in updates. Since last I posted to My Immortal Lover I have driven across the country, found a new apartment, and searched (seemingly futilely) for a new job. Now that I am settled I will (hopefully) be updating more frequently.

On to the chapter title contest (you guess which Bowie song the title is from, remember? Man, it's been WAY too long since I've updated). Yay to **orientalbunny **who wins the virtual pecan sandies (and, of course, **White Rose Withering** who knows way too much and gets... virtual celery- ha!). The winner of this chapter will receive... erm... virtual... gummy bears. Lots of virtual gummy bears. You can't beat virtual gummy bears, right?

P and S- If you have not noticed, the ineffably talented Marti Owlsten and I have begun a Labyrinth collaboration called Muck. Check it out, if you please. It is posted under our dual account, Marti-n-Danika.


	7. Chapter 7

My Immortal Lover

By Danika Lareyna

Chapter Seven

Were They Just A Game?

Jareth watched as the three people, still seemingly unaware of the couple watching them, stretched their legs and took in their surroundings. Sarah's stepmother looked around herself with poorly concealed disgust. Toby did not seem to have noticed a change in scenery at all, being entirely engrossed in a handheld video game of some sort. Sarah's father, on the other hand, was grinning widely and obviously attempting to elicit some enthusiasm from the rest of the lot. Jareth snorted.

He had always assumed that Sarah would wish to introduce him to her family sooner or later. He had rather thought it would be more on the later side, but he was not too worried. He could, after all, be the epitome of charm and grace. How could they fail to love him?

A quick glance at Sarah lowered his confidence just a smidge. She stared at her family in wide-eyed horror, her breathing shallow and quick. He touched her hand, still clenching more and more tightly at his shoulder. He would not admit it, but he feared that if she did not relax quickly she would leave finger-shaped bruises in his skin. The moment he touched her, she turned to him.

"Oh my god," she hissed, again. "What are they doing here? They can't be here. Oh my god, you have to get out of here!"

Jareth frowned, "I do?"

Sarah nodded, her gaze darting over her shoulder and back quickly. As she spoke, she began herding him off his rock and into the safe concealment of the trees. "They're not ready for this. You're not ready for this. _I'm_ not ready for this. You have to go now, quick, before they see you."

He had never seen the normally restrained young woman in such a state before and it amused his Fae sensibilities to no end. Of course, he was not going to cooperate willingly. Trying to look innocent and bewildered, he asked, "But where shall I go?"

Sarah, busily attempting to hide any evidence that she was not completely alone in the woods, replied, "Back home, of course. To the Underground. Where else?"

"But Sarah," he said, his eyes going wide, "I'm not allowed to use magic. I _can't_ return home."

All he could see of her at that moment were her knees and legs, sticking out of the entrance to their tent, but he could sense her stiffen. Very slowly, she backed out of the unzipped doorway and turned to confront him. A mixture of cold fury and disbelief that he would choose _now_ of all times to be difficult was written across her face. She spoke in a soft, urgent tone, "Jareth, this is not the time for games. My father and Karen are most definitely not ready to meet you. Even if they were, I'd rather they not first discover your existence by coming upon us alone in the woods together. I think they would have a heart attack! So I give you permission to use your magic. Poof! Go!"

Jareth crossed his arms and turned his face from her. "I shall not. I am a Fae of my words and I said that I would not use magic. I shall not 'poof' away at the first sign of trouble."

With a snarl of rage, Sarah chucked one of his rolled up socks at him. He deftly snatched it out of the air without looking, as she hissed, "Great time to suddenly worry about keeping your promise. Fine! Then go hide in the outhouse, for all I care. But mark my words, Jareth, if any of my family members see you, I will personally tie you down and shave you bald. And that will be the _least _of your punishments."

Jareth suppressed a smirk as he gave her an elegant bow. "Of course, my dear. They shan't see hide nor golden hair. I shall secret myself away to our hidden kingdom, Little Field of Flowers by the Lake, and wait for you to bring word that it is safe."

She glared at him suspiciously, but the roar of her father's vehicle returning to life decided for her. "Ok, whatever," she whispered, rushing over and giving him a push in the appropriate direction (1), "But go quick, here they come!"

As Jareth slipped silently through the bushes, he chortled to himself. He had promised that they would see nothing of him, but he had not said anything about interacting with them in... _other_ ways. Oh yes, this was shaping up to be a most amusing vacation, after all.

xXx

"Daddy," Sarah said, slipping a pair of jean shorts on over her swimsuit (2). "What a surprise! What are you doing here?" If that last came out slightly more harsh than was absolutely necessary, she hoped they would assume she had stubbed her bare toes on a rock as she danced around, trying to pull the clothes on over dripping wet skin.

"Sarah-honey!" her father exclaimed, slamming the door to his blue sports utility vehicle. "Your little friend Briann told us you were up here. That gave me a great idea. Karen and I both have the weekend off, so we thought we'd come see you. Isn't that fantastic?"

"Great," Sarah replied, forcing a weak smile. One look at the rest of them, her half-brother, Toby, still in the car with his game and stepmother, Karen, eyeing the trees nervously, told her that her father was alone in his excitement.

"We would have called and warned you," Karen said, "But you never answered your cell." Accusation and suspicion hung heavy in her words. Sarah felt her face grow red, thinking of the little phone, turned off and buried at the bottom of a box of books in the back seat of her car.

"Uh, yeah. Mountains," she said, trying to appear nonchalant. "Bad reception."

"Of course, we understand," Robert said, nodding. Suddenly, he clapped his hands and both Sarah and Karen jumped. "So! Where shall we set up our tent?" He raised his voice and banged on the back window, "Toby! Get out here and set up your pup tent!"

xXx

There is a great argument in psychology that is known as the nature versus nurture controversy. Basically, it debates which has more influence on a person's final character, those aspects that they were born with (nature) or the environment in which they were raised (nurture). While both sides have staunch supporters, as with most debates the answer tends to be that it is a little of both. Toby Williams is a fine example.

Toby was born to be a brat (3). He was conceited and self-centered right from birth. This was his nature. Toby was raised by a doting mother and a father who could not say no. He was spoiled and coddled. This was his nurture. Combine these aspects with big, blue eyes and a head full of soft, blond curls which could only be described as cherubic and he was a force to be reckoned with.

Jareth had always been fond of the little chap. Reminded him of someone, though he could not put his finger on whom. Therefore, of course, Toby became the first target.

"This is stupid. Why did I have to come? When can we go home?" The nine year old sat in a fine sulk atop his disassembled pup tent. Every so often, to emphasize a point, we would lash out with a sneakered foot and send a rock flying across the camp. Sarah ignored him, bending over the bologna sandwiches she was making for lunch and pretending like all was right in the world. Robert was distracted trying to assemble the tent he and Karen would be sharing, and making almost as much of a mess of it as Jareth had. His wife was unloading things from their vehicle with a resigned expression and only gave Toby the occasional, sympathetic sigh.

None of them noticed the large barn owl watching them from high in the trees.

At last, seeing that whining was getting him nowhere, Toby flopped backwards onto ground. "Argh!" he howled, "I want to go home!"

Robert stuck his head out of the other tent and, in his best kind but firm tone, said, "Now Toby, it's just for the weekend. Try to relax and I bet you'll be surprised how fast it goes and then be disappointed that it's over. Now set up your tent, son. It's not going to set itself up at the snap of your fingers." He disappeared into the billowing, pole-less, mass once more.

Toby stood, glaring at his father's form. "It's not gonna set itself up at the snap of your fingers," he sneered, sticking his tongue out at the man. In a fit of rebellion, he snapped his fingers at the tent and, to his astonishment, it immediately set itself.

"Woah!" the boy exclaimed, "Did you see that?"

Sarah had wandered to the outhouse to fill her water bucket, but Toby's mother and father both glanced at him. Karen looked nervous, "See what, Dearest? Was it an animal? Did you see a bear?" The last was a low whisper.

"No, I-" Toby cut off, glancing at his tent and then back at his parents. "I mean, yeah. I thought I did, but it was nothing. Just a tree, I guess."

Karen continued to survey the woods mistrustfully. Robert said, "Don't worry, son. There aren't any bears around here. Good job with that tent, though. That was quick." He turned back to his own pathetically drooping creation, braced now on two of the six tent poles.

Toby eyed his parents and, when he was certain neither were watching, snapped his fingers at his father. The large tent immediately fell down around the man's head.

"Cool..." Toby whispered.

xXx

Jareth frowned down at the top of Robert Williams' head. Or rather, he frowned as much as one can with an owl's beak. Robert's balding spot winked up at Jareth as the man stepped through patches of sunlight. _How can anyone be that... insufferably **chipper**?_ the Fae thought sourly. Something had to be done to tone down his attitude, and fast.

With a regretful sigh, he supposed that causing actual bodily damage was out. Sarah would never forgive him if he broke her father's legs. Such a pity. He would simply have to be more imaginative.

Robert was wandering around the campsite, not really doing anything beyond whistling an absurdly cheerful tune and instructing Sarah in how she could have better set things up. "Really, Honey, it's dangerous to have the tent so close to your car. What if it slipped into gear and backed over you in your sleep?" Sarah made polite agreeing noises but did not look up from her book.

"Sarah," he said, in a condescending tone, "Are you still reading those silly children's stories?" He ducked to peer at the cover. "The Sil... The Silmaril... When are you going to start reading some _real _books?"

His daughter glanced up at him. "By 'real books' I assume you mean all of those Louis L'amor westerns of yours?"

He nodded enthusiastically, glad that she was finally seeing things his way. "Now those are stories. Action, romance, real men standing up for real values." He glanced disdainfully at the book she held, "And no unicorns or fairy princesses."

She smirked, "To each his own, Daddy. I happen to like unicorns and fairy princesses."

Robert sighed. He supposed that children had to be free to make their own mistakes; someday she would see the light and get her head out of the clouds. "If you say so, Honey," he said, as she pulled the book back up in front of her face, "I'm going to take a walk down by the water." She nodded, but did not look at him.

Jareth wished fervently that he could turn his beak up into a wicked smile.

xXx

Sarah's stepmother, Jareth decided as he watched her edge nervously through the trees, jumping each time a twig snapped beneath her own foot, would be almost _too_ easy. Not that being an easy target had ever saved anyone from his attentions. The vast majority of his victims _were_ goblins, after all.

Really, all he had to do with Karen was wait for the opportune moment...

xXx

Robert meandered along the bank of the lake, weaving his way through the large boulders strewn here and there. Everything was beautiful, peaceful, and perfect; he was certain that Karen and Toby would come around. He began to whistle again, a merry tune.

As he rounded a particularly large boulder, which took him out of sight of the campground, he stopped short. A little ways off shore, up to her waist in the water, was a young woman. An extremely attractive and... _nude_ young woman, he noted. Robert was a family man and so, of course, he began to back away to give the girl her privacy. If he took his time about it... well, it was only because he was so surprised.

Before he had made it two steps, the young woman glanced at him over her shoulder, pushing damp, blond hair back to see. "I'm... uh... sorry," Robert stammered, taking another step away, "I didn't realize you were here..."

She grinned at him and, with a wink, dived forward into the water. It was at this point that Robert realized two things. The first was that she had not been standing in the water, as he had originally assumed, but sitting on a submerged boulder. The second was that the beautiful young woman did not have legs, but rather a long, sparkling fish tail.

Robert, stunned, lowered himself to sit on a boulder, lest his legs give way beneath him. He watched the rippling surface of the lake, but no blonde head reemerged. Before he had time to convince himself that he had been hallucinating, a sound drew his attention. It sounded like a tiny, delicate wind chime, coming from the trees behind him.

He turned to look and immediately wished he had not. Behind him was another beautiful, nude young woman. This one, though, did not have a fish tail. Rather, she had long, buzzing dragonfly wings. She hovered in the air before his face, no more than five inches tall. Her large black eyes studied him intently and when she cocked her head at an angle, her bodied drifted sideways to match it. He swallowed loudly and closed his eyes, willing the vision away.

When he opened them, the little woman was gone. He lurched to his feet, intent on high tailing it back to camp immediately. As he scurried away, he could not ignore the sound of wind chimes tinkling from the bushes.

xXx

Karen glared at the rough, wooden door. She scowled at the crescent moon cut from it. She glowered at the broken hinge, which caused the door to hang at a slight angle so that it was impossible to close fully. She crossed her arms and tapped her feet (4), as if the outhouse would transform into something more suitable if she only waited long enough.

It did not.

At length, Karen concluded that she had no other option and, wrinkling her nose, pushed open the door. It was not as bad as she feared.

It was worse.

Muttering under her breath about her beloved husband and meat cleavers, Karen went about her business. Her sole desire was to get this done and over with as quickly as possible. Only then did she notice the utter lack of toilet paper. Her mutters grew steadily more graphic.

Karen froze, going silent. Had she just heard...? No, that was silly. It could not have been- there it was again! A snuffling sound and the soft thumping of immensely heavy feet - _paws_ - on the forest floor. She held her breath, peeking through the crack in the angled door. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down the bridge of her nose as she surveyed the small area of woodland visible to her. It seemed serene and safe, the unusually hot sun shining on little flowers and leaves and... things.

Slowly, Karen let out her breath. As if on cue, there was a thunderous roar from behind the outhouse. She tried to scream, but no sound came. She threw herself against the door, but somehow the broken hinge had wedged and the door would not yield. Putting her back to it and shoving with all of her might, Karen could see the rear wall of the outhouse shake as the beast pummeled it.

Karen was certain she could hear to walls cracking under the monster's repeated attacks when the door finally gave way. After falling backwards and rolling a little way, Karen leapt to her feet and down the path with a grace which would have surprised even her, had she not been too distracted to notice it. Dashing headlong down the trail, pulling up her snappy dress slacks as she went, more for freedom of movement then modesty, Karen threw herself into the campsite.

She had finally found her voice, and she was using it to scream bloody murder.

xXx

"Good evening, Sarah," Jareth said, looking up as she strode into Little Field of Flowers by the Lake. "It is so nice to see you. I have been rather lonely, sitting here... all by myself... bereft of my magic." He smirked up at her, "You did not happen to bring anything to eat, did you?"

The bologna sandwich landed in his lap with such force that a glob of mustard was sent flying. He only barely deflected it before remembering that he did not really care whether he stained his barbaric Aboveground clothes, anyway. Ah well, at least it was an impressive save.

He looked up at the dark-haired young woman, "Why Sarah, is something the matter?"

She knelt down in front of him, crossing her arms on her knees and glaring directly into his eyes. "What," she snarled, "Did you do to my family? Twenty minutes ago, Dad and Karen both ran in at the same time. Dad looked like he'd seen a ghost, but when I ask him refuses to tell me what happened, and Karen... She's still in the SUV with a cool rag on her forehead, shaking! They've decided to leave tomorrow morning, as soon as the sun comes up. The only one who wants to stay is Toby." Her voice dropped low, "And I think that might worry me more than the others."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about, Sarah," Jareth said, his eyes going round and sad. "I have been sitting right here, all day, all alone." He considered adding a little sniffle there, but decided it would be over-the-top.

Sarah snorted and stood, knowing full well that he would never confess. As she turned to go, though, he said, "I am dreadfully sorry to hear that your family shall be leaving early. After all, I am certain that you were having a _lovely_ visit with them."

As she turned back to him, red faced and spluttering, Jareth gave her a charming smile, which was perhaps a mite wider than it should have been. As the too-bright sun sank behind the mountains, the sky full of fancifully shaped clouds, Jareth took a large bite of his bologna sandwich and a glob of mustard landed on his blue and yellow checked shirt.

xXx

(1) - Without which he would most certainly have become lost. Jareth, as you will recall, has an atrocious sense of direction.

(2) - Of course she brought an extra; she _knew_ Jareth would not let the first survive day one.

(3) - Don't you just get terribly sick and tired of all those stories where Toby is an absolute angel and Sarah's bestest little friend in the whole world?

(4) - Stylishly clad in only the finest Juicy Couture heels and the dirt be damned.

**White Rose Withering**, much to no one's surprise, has again won the title contest and the virtual gummy bears. Is she a genius? Does she merely never leave her computer and therefore is always the first to respond? The world may never know. However, ask her nice and maybe she will give you a yellow one. Nobody likes the yellow ones anyway.

The grand prize this time around shall be virtual... drum roll please? ...please? Ah, come on. Give me a drum roll. No, I don't _care_ if you're in the library!

...fine. Be that way.

Spoilsport.

The grand prize this time around shall be virtual toaster strudel. Why? Because I'm hungry and toaster strudel sounds really yummy right now. Too bad I have none. Nor do I have a toaster, for that matter. Ah, c'est la vie. Please be sure to let me know what flavor of toaster strudel you want or I'll send you brown sugar and cinnamon or something gross like that.

Actually, I might do that anyway, just because I am evil... Right, Tessa? Mwahahaha!


	8. Chapter 8

My Immortal Lover

By Danika Lareyna

Chapter Eight

The Day Laughs in Your Face

"I don't _want_ to go! You can't make me! You said we could stay 'til Sunday!" Robert firmly shut the door to the blue sports utility vehicle, cutting off the sound of Toby's howling protests. Sarah could still see him through the shaded glass, arguing his case and, for some reason, snapping his fingers in their direction. With a mental shrug, she put it down to general childhood weirdness, for her own sanity if nothing else.

She turned back to her father and stepmother, fighting to look disappointed and not as if she wanted to skip gleefully around the camp. "Are you sure you have to go?" she asked, wondering what tragic flaw she had in her nature which compelled her to push her luck so.

Robert's head bobbed on his neck as his eyes darted about the trees. "Yes, yes," he murmured, in the distracted tone he had used since the previous afternoon. "Must go... time to go... Home to the city... nice city..." Karen said nothing, but her grip tightened on the oversized can of mace in her fist.

xXx

As the car disappeared down the mountain, Jareth seemed to materialize from the shadows beneath the trees. "Whatever you did to them had _better_ not have screwed them up permanently," she said as he came to stand beside her. He chuckled but said nothing.

She raised her eyes to the sky, another perfectly clear day with the sun shining cheerfully down on them. She hated to ruin such a thing, but the real world had touched her and reminded her that the fantasy had to end some time. With a sigh, she said, "I guess I should be getting back in a couple of days too."

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

She gave Jareth a sad smile over her shoulder. "Sorry, but you know we can't stay up here forever. Anyway, I bet you miss your goblins."

The thunder grew louder and a cold wind swept around Sarah, tugging at her hair.

With a snort, Sarah turned and walked away from him. She spoke as she went, "Fine then. Be that way."

Jareth, arms crossed, glared at the road, the wind rising to a howl around him. He had, it appeared, settled in for a full-scale temper-tantrum (1). His resolve weakened, however, when a pair of slender arms reached out to embrace him from behind. A husky voice spoke in his ear, "Of course, if you stop sulking, we could actually _enjoy_ our last few days up here." Sarah pressed her body tight against his.

Nimble fingers undid the top three buttons of his shirt before Jareth could form an answer. Said fingers then dipped down to run lightly across the Goblin King's chest and, as the sun peeked hesitantly from behind the roiling clouds, Jareth found that he had once again been thwarted by the wily woman. And, once again, he did not seem to mind. Giggling, Sarah led the willing Fae back to their snug tent. Within minutes the day was beautiful and perfect once again.

That is until a blue sports utility vehicle pulled into the campground and a voice called out, "Sarah-Honey! Have you seen our thermos?"

xXx

"Are all mortals that annoying, or is it just your family?" he groused. He sat cross-legged atop a sleeping bag in their tent; Sarah was stretched out with her head in his lap. Without seeming to pay attention to what he was doing, Jareth was twisting her dark hair into a multitude of tiny plaits.

As she enjoyed watching his long, nimble fingers braid her hair, Sarah replied cheerfully, "Oh, it's all mortals. I'm surprised you haven't figured that out by now."

He snorted, "As bad as goblins."

"Aren't there _any_ you like?" she asked.

"Well there is _one_ I'm somewhat fond of," he replied, dropping the strands of hair to tap her playfully on the tip of her nose.

She grinned up at him, "I _meant_ goblins, not mortals, Mr. Romantic."

He resumed plaiting her hair and his brows drew down as a look of concentration swept across his elegant features. "Hmm... well I am rather amused by young Squyshee (2)."

Sarah choked on laughter and sat up, turning to face him. "_Squyshee_?"

He sighed, "Yes, I know. It's a terrible name." She nodded her agreement and he continued, "Especially since he moved into the lower furnace room. Unfortunately, he refused to take my excellent advice and change his name to Cryspee." He shrugged, "Goblins."

Sarah flopped back into his lap, giggling. "We have the weirdest conversations."

Jareth looked honestly surprised, "We do?" She only giggled the harder.

xXx

"It could have happened to anyone," he insisted.

Sarah nodded, trying to hide the tears that were forming in her eyes. She obviously failed because he crossed his arms and turned his face from her, a low growl echoing in the back of his throat. "No," she said, and her voice caught as she struggled not to choke on the words, "I understand, Jareth."

"Really," he exclaimed, waving an arm for emphasis, "How was I supposed to know? It _seemed_ innocent enough." Sarah quickly turned away from him, afraid that he would see the color drain from her face. She pressed a hand to her stomach, hoping that she could fight the urge to be sick.

"Sarah," he said, taking her by the shoulders and forcing her to turn and face him. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes once more. "Sarah," he repeated, his voice low and serious, "Even you could not be this cruel. Sarah, my pet, do not do this to me. Do not do it to yourself."

The woman looked at the ground, unable to meet his piercing, mismatched gaze. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, her toe digging at large pebble in the dirt. He frowned and cupped her chin in his hand, once again forcing her eyes to his own. Indecision danced in that gray-green gaze. He had given his word and yet... it was just so painful now.

"Sarah," he said, his voice soft with only a hint of admonishment, "Please." He stepped close to her, pressing his body tightly against her own. He lowered his head so that his hair tickled her ears and his lips barely brushed hers.

"Ok!" she gasped, shoving him roughly away. She turned away from him, scrubbing at her eyes. "Fine Jareth, you win. You can use your magic, but I _hope_ you learned your lesson!"

"Yes Sarah," Jareth replied, like a sullen child. "I shall not attempt to pet anymore of those skunk beasts, should I see them."

xXx

She sat in the tent, running a brush through her long, dark hair. Suddenly her hand paused as a strange sound caught her attention. Slowly, she lowered the brush to her lap, tilting her head a bit in an attempt to better catch the noise. It was soft but persistent, almost like tiny helicopters. She might have feared that Jareth was up to his tricks, but he had just recently gone for a swim. He should not be back yet...

Just as Sarah reached to unzip the tent entrance and peek out, another sound came to her. This was slightly easier for her to recognize. "Aiiiiieeeeee!!" Obviously a coyote had gotten into camp and had taken it into its head to howl-

The tent flaps flew open as a nude, dripping Goblin King threw himself in, knocking Sarah backwards onto her sleeping bag. She raised her head to demand an explanation, but Jareth had already twisted around and was zipping up the tent as if his life depended on it. Judging from the swollen, red welts which dotted him, including some very... interesting places, that might have been true.

"What on earth-?" Sarah managed to splutter.

Jareth turned, breathing heavily, and seemed to notice her presence for the first time. He drew himself up, gathering his dignity and pretending as if he was not sitting naked and wet in a tent in the middle of the woods, covered in throbbing welts. "Sarah," he said, "I believe that I am ready to return home."

"Jareth, what happened? What's that sound? What's the matter with you?" Sarah reached over to touch one of the angry bumps on Jareth's skin, but he immediately flinched away. He was having a hard enough time figuring out how to sit without irritating them further, he did not need her making it all the worse.

He cleared his throat and refused to meet her eyes. "It would seem," he said, "That the local insect population has developed a taste for Fae flesh."

Sarah gaped, "Bugs? _Bugs_ did that to you? I thought you had found a little-known den of freshwater electric eels down in the lake or something! My gosh, it sounds like World War Three out there!" Since Jareth had appeared in the tent, the thrumming outside had risen to a fevered pitch.

Jareth twitched, resisting the terrible urge to scratch. "I am almost amazed that I have passed under their radar so long, really. It is a well known fact that the blood of a Fae is like sugar-water to those foul little creatures."

Sarah grinned, "I always said that you were sweet, deep down, but I never meant literally." Jareth rolled his eyes. "So you look like you're about two-thirds eaten already. How are we ever going to get everything packed and into the car?"

Jareth's eyes widened and he glanced quickly at the tent's entrance and then back at her. "Go back out there?" His voice squeaked a little as he spoke and he had to clear his throat before he continued, "I am afraid that it shall be impossible. We will simply have to remain here, in the tent, for the rest of time."

"Well, that's one idea," Sarah said. "But I can see two problems with that. The first being that we're down to a single can of pork and beans and half a bag of stale marshmallows for food-"

"I get the marshmallows," Jareth said, cutting her off. Sarah gave him a look and he quickly silenced.

"And the second problem being that those bugs seem to be trying to get to you by chewing right through the tent." She lifted a finger, indicating an area of the tent-wall which was bulging inward. Close inspection revealed tiny mandibles and stingers trying to punch through the thick material.

Jareth took one look at the tent and, in his most dignified and regal tone, said, "Aiiiiieeeeee!!"

When Sarah was at last able to remove her hands from her ears, she said, "Ok, now that you've gotten that out of your system... I think I've come up with a solution."

He calmly crossed his hands in his lap, realized that he was still nude, and moved his hands to his knees. "Oh?"

She smiled, "If it were to rain really hard, the insects will have to settle down long enough for us to pack up."

Tapping a finger against his lips, Jareth said, "Yes... Yes, that might work."

"So, the only problem is..." a slightly wicked gleam came into Sarah's eyes, "Making it rain..."

xXx

"...and so then Juliet plunged Romeo's dagger into her breast so that she could join with her beloved for all time in death." Sarah dabbed at her misty eyes as her story came to an end. She turned to glance hopefully at Jareth and was slightly disappointed with his reaction.

He threw his head back and roared with laughter, going so far as to slap his knee. "Honestly Sarah, I was under the impression that you were attempting to make me sad. Why on earth did you choose that story?"

Sarah glowered at him. "Romeo and Juliet is one of the greatest tragic love stories of all time!" she exclaimed.

He blinked, looking utterly perplexed. "You mean it is not a comedy, highlighting the foolish fallibility of mortal youth? What with the sleeping potion, and the feuding families..." He broke off into chuckles again.

Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is going to be harder than I thought."

xXx

"...and so then the little mermaid turned to sea foam, to drift forever on the waves, but she was at least content in the knowledge that her true love was happy." Sarah's voice was hoarse. She was not certain how many tragic stories she had told Jareth so far, but she was afraid that she had nearly expended her repertoire.

He snorted, "Foolish fish-woman. She should simply have used the knife from the sea-witch to slice off the nose of the prince's betrothed. See if he married the woman then!"

Sarah sighed, burying her face in her hands. She would simply have to face it. The Goblin King was not affected by the same things a human would be. Well... he had gotten rather misty-eyed during, "The Little Match-Girl," but in the end had only gotten angry at mortal society which would allow such a thing. It seemed that they were indeed doomed to live out the rest of their lives (3) in the tent.

...and Jareth had already eaten all of the marshmallows.

Suddenly, a sound caught Sarah's attention and she raised her head. "Jareth, do you hear... Jareth, are you trying to sneak the pork and beans too?!" Jareth lowered the spoon and tried to look innocent as he rubbed a condemning smear of sauce from his lips. One sure-fire way to make Jareth cry suddenly occurred to Sarah, which involved a swift kick from her to a very sensitive area on him. She shoved the idea (reluctantly) from her mind, as she said, "Jareth, do you hear what I hear?"

The Goblin King tilted his head, listening, and said, "No, obviously not."

"Exactly!" Sarah exclaimed. "I've been trying to make you cry for so long that it seems that the bugs have all bedded down for the night... or whatever."

"Ah, excellent," Jareth exclaimed. "Then we won't be needing this last can of pork and beans." Sarah once again envisioned herself making it rain, as Jareth snatched his spoon back up and began shoveling the food into his mouth.

xXx

Sarah shot a sympathetic glance at Jareth. Or rather, at Jareth's backside. The rest of him hung out Joseph's window. Apparently he became slightly less nauseas with the wind in his face. He said that it was rather like flying. Actually, he said that it was rather like flying through a thunderstorm with a broken wing, but Sarah had chosen to abridge the comment in her mind.

"Jareth, I told you that you didn't have to ride back with me," she said, reaching over to lay a gentle hand on the back of his shirt (4).

He slid back into the car and gave her a slight frown. "I am sorry," he said, "What did you say?"

"I, uh..." Sarah lost her train of thought, trying very hard not to laugh at Jareth's hair. His usual wild hairstyle had been utterly ruined by the trip down the mountain, and in a way that could only have been achieved by the Goblin King. Apparently, he was able to read her gaze, because he quickly turned the rearview mirror to look into it.

"Oh bloody hell," he muttered, "It's all... smooth and straight." He growled as he attempted to fluff it with his fingers.

"I said that you did not have to ride down with me," Sarah said, at last. "You could have just returned home from the camp."

He tilted his chin up regally and replied, "I have accompanied you for the duration of this trip. I shall accompany you to the end." At that moment they hit a particularly steep drop. Jareth clawed at the dashboard a moment before remembering to stick his head out the window- just as Joseph passed a particularly bushy pine tree.

The Goblin King rolled up his window, sitting back and gripping his seat with his eyes closed. Sarah decided that it would not be wise to comment on the red scratches on one side of his face, or the broken branches caught in his straight, shiny hair.

"Sarah?" Jareth asked, attempting to focus his mind on something other than the roiling in his stomach. "What will you do when you return to your home?"

She suppressed a groan. "I guess I'll have to start looking for a job. Ugh! I don't think there is anything on the face of the earth that I hate more than job hunting." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, giving him a somewhat fatalistic grin. "I don't suppose you know anyone who's hiring, do you?"

Jareth stiffened and opened his eyes, staring at her for a long moment. Sarah felt a tingle of apprehension dance up her spine. "Yes," he said, slowly, "As a matter of fact, I do."

"Oh, I know I'm going to regret asking this," Sarah muttered, half to herself. "Ok, I'll bite. Who?"

His lips twisted into a wide, wicked smirk as Jareth replied, "Me."

xXx

(1) - A temper tantrum of the Fae variety, which tend to level houses and get weathermen fired. (How could you fail to predict a _tornado_?)

(2) - Squyshee is mine, _mine I tell you! _I actually wrote the first half of this chapter _months_ ago and, as such, had named Squyshee long before any silly little OCs went on their silly little vacation. Twas I who named Wren's goblin. Cower before the genius that is me!

(3) - Actually it would only be the rest of Sarah's life. Jareth would have to be there for the rest of eternity.

(4) - On the surface this was an attempt to be considerate and understanding, but really she was just afraid he would throw up in her car.

Amazingly and astoundingly enough, **WhiteRoseWithering** did not win last chapter's prize. We all know that she _knew_ the song, but she didn't answer it. So the virtual toaster strudel goes to **enchantednight84** (Yay!). Unfortunately she did not, as I asked, let me know what flavor she wants so she gets anchovy-flavored toaster strudel. THAT'LL TEACH YA!

The prize this time around, solely because **Solea** asked, will be virtual nacho platters. Have at it.

...what do you mean you don't remember the game? Pfft. You are supposed to guess which song by the lovely and talented David Bowie the title of this chapter is from. Lyrics, people, _lyrics_.


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